Some of George Herbert's poems have been set to music, and one of his finest serves as the text of one of our favorite parish hymns, which is sung to the marvellous tune, General Seminary:
King of glory, King of peace,
I will love thee;
and that love may never cease,
I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
thou hast heard me;
thou didst note my working breast,
thou hast spared me.
Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing thee,
and the cream of all my heart
I will bring thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
thou didst clear me;
and alone, when they replied,
thou didst hear me.
Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee;
in my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise thee.
Small it is, in this poor sort
to enroll thee:
e’en eternity’s too short
to extol thee.
George Herbert, 1633

1 comments:
I remember as a young, undergraduate, reactionary atheist noting that Herbert was a priest with a sort of -- 'Hmm' -- and yet still loving his poetry. I think I was particularly moved that he had left a promising public life for a rustic parish.
I especially loved "The Altar." It looks like a sideways 'H,' for Herbert.
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